An unremarkble child
by Anonymusss
Summary: When Miss Petal started the new term at her primary school in Surrey, there was something she had not bargined for standing in the playground... COMPLETE five chapters.
1. Chapter 1

It started like any normal day. Miss Petal got into the car and drove through the town to work. It was the 1st of September, and she would be teaching a new class for the first time. Year 3, so they'd be seven or eight. She liked teaching the children this age, they were old enough to be imaginative, but still young, sweet and obedient. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as she slowed to a standstill at the traffic lights.

She watched the children file into the playground, accompanied by their parents. All of the adults where fussing over scuffs on shiny new school shoes, or else straightening pleats in crisp skirts and tying new ties. She went out to meet the parents. She had done this since the start of her career. She felt if the children saw that their parents where comfortable around her, they would be more confident in the classroom. After greeting Mr and Mrs Parker and their daughter Emily, Ms Taylor and Paul, Mr and Mrs Flinch and Rachel, she went over to a family of four. There was a rather large man with a bristling moustache, a thin, immaculate woman with short, perfectly styled hair, a stocky boy with a staggering resemblance to his father (although without the bristling moustache), and then – Miss Petal stopped dead. The boy was pale, thin, had messy black hair, shocking green eyes and selotaped glasses -and a lightning shaped scar on his forehead. She shook herself. She was being silly. They were a comprehensive primary school in Kent. It was just a coincidence. "It's a pleasure to meet you all, I'm Miss Petal," She smiled at them all, avoiding the gaze of the bespectacled boy.

"Petunia Dursley," Said the woman. "This is my husband Vernon, and our son Dudley. Oh, and that's Harry, our nephew," Miss Petals stomach plummeted. Harry. Harry. He was the double of James, eyes of Lilly, had the scar - and was called Harry. 'This has got to be a coincidence!' she persuaded herself, all the while her stomach was buzzing. Could Harry Potter really be at St. Joe's primary?

She called all the children inside. She sat at her desk, staring at Harry. She glanced down the register, and, to her disbelief, found it. Potter, Harry. The hero who defeated the darkest wizard of all time was the same boy as the child who stood in oversized, faded uniform, with broken glasses and a shaky, pale complexion. Whenever people had spoken of Harry Potter, she versioned a strong, tall, powerful boy with overwhelming power and charisma; not a weedy, speckled, trembling child. As he answered to the register (It took a lot of power to say his name smoothly and calmly) she was stunned to hear his voice tremble. She had to stifle a laugh; the boy, who defeated He Who Must Not Be Named, was frightened of her!

As the children sat down to their first activity of the academic year (the usual; write about yourself, your family, and your summer holidays), she could not help but notice how the other children where treating Harry. They all laughed and chatted, joked and giggled amongst themselves, but Harry sat and worked quietly, his head low, without any one so much as approaching him. These children had no idea what sat with them. This boy was amazing, had done what no wizard could ever do! In the wizarding world, the boy would be admired and praised beyond belief. Yet here was a miserable young boy with no one to talk to. She was drawn sharply from her thoughts when a young, trembling voice said;

"Um, miss? I've finished," she looked down. Harry Potter was at her desk, holding up a flimsy exercise book.

"Thank you, Harry," She fingered her wand, concealed in the pocket of her work trousers. She never used it, but always liked to carry it, just in case. Dare she remove it, and reveal to Harry who she really was? No, that would be idiotic. So, she looked down to the work she had just been given.

_About me, my family and my summer Holliday, by Harry Potter. _**She felt sick. She had just asked Harry Potter to write about his family, completely forgetting his tragic circumstance.**

_I am green eyes, with hair that is black. I have to have glases because everything is fuzzee with out them. I was bawn in the 31__st__ of July in 1980. This makes me seven yers old._

_My famile is my uncle and aunt and my cousin Dudley. It is also other pepole like Dudley's grandma and Aunt Marge, but they isn't really my family. I lives with uncle and Aunt Dursley because when I was a baby my parents died in a car crash. _**A car crash. A car crash. She was now very glad that she had not withdrawn her wand. If Harry Potter knew what had really happened, he would not think it had been a car crash.**

_I can only just remember the car crash. _Miss **Petal was not sure she wanted to her about how He Who Must Not Be Named attacks his victims.** **The boy standing in front of her knew what happened when some one performs the killing curse. She suddenly realised what terror this boy had unknowingly witnessed. **_There was loads of green lite and sometimes I can remember some one lafing, but I think I must have thought this up in my head because pepole are sad when people die, and people lauf when they are happee. _**Now she really felt sick. He had been laughing. Her dormant rage for You-Know-Who suddenly awoke, knowing at her insides. **_This is how I got my scar, but I don't remember getting the scar. I like my scar because it makes me look different. My holiday was good because the Dursley all went to Corfu. I like the park and ice cream now, because it is the first time I have used them. I didn't know how to use the tee vee, so I left it alone and used bikes insted. _

She gave it back to Harry, smiling and praising the boy. He looked shocked at the positive feedback, and then his face broke into a smile. She gave the boy a sticker. She peeled of the sticker without looking. Only realising what it was until he had secured it onto his green tie. The words 'great work!' where curved under a wizard with a triangular purple body, and a magicians wand. She grinned, unable to conceal the irony. He turned and hopped back to his desk. If only the boy knew. Just then, Dudley said something. She only heard a snippet of conversation about parents, and family. Harry burst into tears, and, as he did so, the flower pot behind Her smashed.

"Oh, silly me," She said, although she hadn't so much as touched it. She was going to appear **very** clumsy this year…


	2. Chapter 2

That evening, Miss Petal rushed home. She arrived sooner then she had done before, but ran straight into the kitchen. She sat down, head in hands, completely confused. What should she do? She barely had time to wonder, when her boyfriend arrived home.

"Hullo! Didn't expect to see you home!" He said as he put the kettle on. "Tea?"

"Thanks," said Miss Petal. She sipped her tea, staring intently at the tiled floor. She got up, and practically ran to the bathroom. She pulled the little box from it's hiding place next to the bath, and wrenched the top open.

Here was the evidence of a life she had tried to forget. Potion ingredients scrunched up parchment, old quills, an assortment of odd coins… rummaging through the box, she finally found what she was looking for. Miss Petal withdrew a tiny pot, barely larger than a golf ball. Prising the lid open, she revealed some fine powder. She weighed the pot in her hands, thinking. After all, she doubted any one would be able to do anything (She wasn't even sure what she wanted to happen), yet she had gone so long with out any interference from the wizarding world, would her will power stretch to ignoring the greatest young wizard that had ever lived? How could she relax, knowing the power that could burst from Harry at any moment, and (Miss Petal shuddered at the thought)? No, floo wasn't the answer.. .but what was? Realising that she had no other option, she put the box away and went back downstairs. Her boyfriend said he was going for his next shift, and that he would be back soon. She said her goodbyes without really listening to the conversation. No sooner had he closed the front door, when a loud crack issued from the back garden, followed by a neat knocking. Miss Petals heart stopped dead. She hadn't heard that noise in seven years….

She got up as slowly as she could, and shuffled over to the door. Surely not two wizards in one day? But, as she opened the door, she saw that it wasn't just two wizards in one day; it was two very famous wizards, in one day. A tall man stood before her, in long violet robes. His white beard and overwhelmingly blue eyes were unmistakable.

"Well, are you going to invite me in? It's very chilly you know," He smiled at her, and she realised she had been gawking at him rather rudely.

"Yes, yes, of course… come in…" Professor Dumbledore trotted behind her into the kitchen, where he sat down and conjured a pot of tea. He chuckled at Miss Petal, who had been bruising herself at the kettle.

"Surely, when you're on your own? Not even a little bit of magic?" When she did nothing except gaze past him at the back door, he pressed on "I'm sure you know why I'm here?" She nodded. "Well, I have come to tell you that you are to treat Harry as you would treat any muggle boy," She looked at Dumbledore.

"But why?" She said her voice a little higher than usual. "Why isn't he with wizards Professor? I had heard rumours, but I thought that they were just – well, rumours," He did not answer straight away, but merely drank his tea in silence.

"Nobody knows what has happened to Voldemort," She jumped violently, spilling tea down her blouse.

"Don't they?" she said apprehensively,dabbing at the white linen with a tea towel. She tried to make it sound casual, but she was really doing what she had wanted to do for nearly seven years – ask Dumbledore about You-Know-Who. He grinned, clearly seeing right through her.

"I haven't a clue," His blue eyes twinkled "But I can't say for certain that he is truly gone. And when, I mean to say if, he returns" Miss Petals stomach did a back flip at the very thought. "Then killing Harry will be his number one priority. I have my reasons for sending Harry to the muggle, but I can't discuss them now. Rest assured, however, that it is for his own safety," She nodded. If it was okay with Dumbledore, then it was okay with her.

***

The next day, Miss Petal went to work with a somewhat different attitude. She hummed merrily to herself, reversing into the car park. She stood beside her little fiat, watching a shiny silver car roll into a space on the opposite road. The Dursleys clambered out. Mrs. Dursley holding a pink-faced Dudley by the hand, and Mr. Dursley walking beside them as they crossed the road; Harry was walking a few paces behind.

She sat down in class, unable to stop staring at Harry. He could easily be James. At this thought, she ached inside. She suddenly jumped back to her senses, and took the register, stuttering slightly on Harry's name. The whole class got changed for PE, and they filed onto the field, shivering in their shorts and t-shirts. It was a cruel rule, she thought to herself, that they weren't aloud PE jumpers. She got four children to set up the bases on the rounder's pitch, and sent two more to get the bats and ball.

When all six children had (finally) returned, she picked two team captins, and they chose players for their team. Every time a child was picked, she was shocked to see Harry sitting on the muddy field, fiddling with a bit of grass. He looked upset, but seemed to expect no other treatment. Harry was left until last.

When Dudley, having fought his way through the crowd of children, walked forwards to bat, Miss Petal could simply not see why Harry had not been last. Dudley hit the ball far out of the pitch, and Harry ran, at astonishing speed, jumped and magnificently caught the ball one handed. No one cheered or applauded. On the contrary, even on his own team, the children muttered and scowled at Harry. He threw the ball back to the bowler, looking down at his scuffed old trainers.

As the week carried on, Miss Petal soon learnt that the rounders incident was not unusual. Harry would always be left with the dried up paintbrushes, would be left alone when they chose teams, would be last in the dinner queue, and always stood alone in the playground. There was nothing she seemed to be able to do; she never saw the others being mean to Harry, but she never saw them being nice either.

After three weeks of being completely ignored, Miss Petal asked Harry to stay behind after maths.

"Harry," She said, squatting down so her face was level with his, unsure how to phrase this. "You don't seem very happy at playtime," When he did nothing but look at his muddy hands, she continued. "Are you happy?" He looked up.

"A bit," He said.

"Only a bit?"

"Well, I'm allowed to play on the climbing frames, and I like that," Miss petal looked at Harry.

"When you say that you're allowed…"

"I don't get the chance often, the others are on it," He looked innocently up at her. She sighed, and changed tact.

"Well, why don't I see you playing with your cousin and your friends?"

"We play by the edge of the field, so you can't see us from the window," Miss Petal was stunned at the speed of this lie.

"Very well Harry. You may go. But remember – if you do feel unhappy you can talk to me,"

"Okay, Miss Petal," and with that, he shuffled out onto the playground.

***

Harry did not come to talk to Miss Petal. Another three weeks went by, and she nothing was said about Harry – until one day just before half-term. She was walking past the headmistress's office on her way back from the classroom, when she heard the headmistress's raised voice and another, very familiar one.

" A very stupid thing to do, absolutely ridiculous" Came the headmistress's harsh bark.

"I d - didn't," Harry stammered through heavy sobs.

Intrigued, Miss Petal pushed open the office door. The headmistress was towering over Harry, whose face was dry from tears, but his whole body trembled under the furious glare the headmistress was giving him.

"Ah, Miss Petal," said the headmistress, glancing up and spotting Miss Petal. "I'm sorry to tell you that Harry has been climbing school property. He was on the roof of the kitchens, twenty foot in the air!" Miss petal stared at Harry in disbelief.

"I didn't Miss Petal, honestly didn't, I was running one minuet and up there then next –" Harry was hushed by a furious Headmisstress, who had no time to listen to silly exscuses.

" I will be writing to Harry's parents," Miss Petal was getting more and more annoyed with every word the headmistress spoke "And I don't expect Harry to be allowed out at break for the rest of the week,"

As Miss Petal lead Harry back to the classroom, she suspected that there might be more truth in Harry's word than the headmistress thought.


	3. Chapter 3

That night, she got home to find the house empty. There was a note on the table;

_Motorway pile up, I might be at work until late. Sorry!_

This note would usually have made her annoyed, and bought her a long, lonely evening. But now… she was alone in her house, no one would be home for hours. She pulled out her wand. It felt good to hold it, she hadn't done so in seven years. It was like finally falling into a warm, soft bed after the longest day of her life. As she raised the wand, a warm surge filled her entire body. She suddenly forgot the reason she had given up magic, the promises she had made; the past few weeks had given her a taste of magic, and now she couldn't go back. She brought the wand crashing down, exploding a vase in a fountain of gold flames.

All of a sudden, she seemed to awaken terrified from the long-awaited sleep. She stared around; she was standing in a pool of glass, her wand at her side. The next thing she knew, she was sobbing, tears falling onto the shards of glass glittering on the floor, her wand shaking uncontrollably as her arm quivered with tears. The reasons and the promises had come flooding back as the glass had hit the floor; the smash seemed to have awoken the sleeping dragon, and now he was back. Back to hurt, back to ache, back to grieve and back to cry.

***

_The woman screamed._

_The wand hit the floor with a smash, and a man laughed horribly in the distance. Gold flames licked at her, she was in agony… _

_Then two pairs of hands came out of nowhere, and dragged her away from the flames she had survived for so long. But then the hands went away, and the darkness was worse than the flames; she needed the hands back, the darkness hurt in a different, more terrible way… but she mustn't go back to the flames, they had hurt so much.._

Miss petal was screaming. Her boyfriend woke with a start.

"What's wrong? Where are you? Are you okay?" He said in a terrified voice.

"Yeah… I'm fine… bad dream," She said breathlessly, turning away so he could not see the tears dripping silently onto the crisp linen.

***

Miss Petal sat at her desk, watching the children drip paint onto the newly laid carpet, then trying to rub it off with their feet, leaving a large dark blot. Today she couldn't care less; a simple charm would clear that right up. Then a huge knot tightened in her gut. She couldn't go back to magic, she had to remain strong, she had promised, vowed not to, she couldn't go back on her word – not now, not after so many years…


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter was my way of explaining really unfair teachers!! Thanks for all the positive comments! Sorry the last chapter was short, but it was just something I felt I needed to get down for reasons to be revealed… :D

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The sun was glaring into Miss Petal's eyes, reflected by the jet black windows of the large coach sitting in the car park. She squinted down at the register. She was ticking of names as children bought forward their permission slips. Then a trembling little boy made his way forward.

"Form, Harry," she said, perhaps a little too harshly.

"I don't have it,"

"Then you can't go on the trip," She had no idea why she was behaving like this. She felt a burning desire to hate the boy, so strong, yet so unexplained. As the first tear squeezed out of the stunningly green eyes, the bus tire exploded with an ear-splitting bang.

"RIGHT, POTTER, COME WITH ME!" she yelled, louder than she had in a long time, grabbing Harry's arm and pulling him back into the school. She dragged him to the classroom, where a confused teaching assistant was pinning paintings to the display board. She didn't know where the anger was coming from, but it was so very strong. The anger balloon had been billowing inside her for years, and the hint of magic that had crept up on her in recent weeks had burst it, just like it had burst the tyre. It felt good, to shout. It was, after all, his fault. Her life had been so good before he had come, dragging with him Dumbledore, and the fear of living with magic. He had dragged back the straggled remains of a life she had tried so hard to forget.

"Harry, you can sit here and think about what you've done," she spat, glaring at the horrified little boy. His arm was shaking beneath her tight grip. It was only as she sat down on the repaired coach that she realised he didn't have much thinking to do at all…

***

Miss Petal had spent to long avoiding magic. So long. Now she had been reawaken, she saw magic everywhere. As the coach journey wore on, she saw an owl on a post office roof. She saw a purple double Decker bus. A little old man in a cloak, drawing very odd looks. A telephone box that reminded her so much of the ministry. And - -she had shut her eyes tight as though it was a disgusting sight – the leaky cauldron. An odd feeling rose. Miss Petal knew not if it was hatred for the magical pub, or an insane urge to run through the doors; out onto the sun-dazzled cobbles, lined with rickety shops, with wizards and witches running to and fro, with robes that would ripple in the summer breeze, cats chasing owls, little boys with their noses pressed up against a window admiring the broom within….

She woke up, unaware that she had ever fallen asleep. The coach had shuddered to a stop, just outside the museum of natural history. They walked past this to the Science museum. Science would stamp out the need for magic; nothing was more muggle than science. Yet, as she walked in, she could not help but picture Arthur Weasley here, the look on his face at the sight of all the plugs and eklicity… she could not help it. She grinned.

Just as she was pondering the freckled face, always adorned with a wide smile at the sight of muggles, a cry of pain pierced the dreamy reminiscence. A museum worker was hoping around on one leg, grunting in agony. From what she could detangle from the mass of grunts and curses, Dudley had kicked him. Why Dudley had kicked him seemed unexplained, until Dudley moaned loudly that he was bored and punched a tin replica of a spaceship. They spent the next thirty minuets trying to find the museum curator to pay for the damage, then the next forty trying to find the bursars office. They returned to the bus, with Miss Petal feeling that they would have had a lot more time if she had just used her wand.

The bus journey back provided too much distraction for Miss Petal. She stepped off the bus, sick and tuna sandwich spilled down her front. When she returned home, the house was once more deserted. She laughed out loud at her luck. She took the stairs three at a time, and fished out the little box. She opened it, took out a faded key lying at the bottom, and closed the box. She put the key in the keyhole at the side of the little leather box. When she pulled of the lid once more, it showed not a mass of old parchment and quills, but stacks of wizard photographs, a bunch of hand written letters on old, faded parchment, an old wand with a dragon heartstring dangling out of the end, and a large framed photograph. The words '_the order of the phoenix_' were etched into the gold, ornate frame. She closed her eyes, and remembered the scene; imagining that the heavy old camera was in her hand once more. The occupants of the picture laughed and waved, and she smiled back through heavy tears. People shifted aside as she reached out to touch the tall man at the back. She stroked his shoulder-length hair, and he reached out a faded hand to try and touch her. Miss Petal's eyes soon clouded over with tears.


	5. Chapter 5

"You're awake," Her boyfriend said. He was not smiling.

"I'm… what?" Miss petal said. She could not remember falling asleep. She felt awful. Her head was spinning, and she could smell fresh vomit nearby. Then last nights events came flooding back… she had been looking at the order, then…

"You collapsed" Her boyfriend said. "Scared me stiff. The things I see everyday…" he shuddered "I thought you were next. You've no idea," No idea? No idea? She saw friends and family drop dead around her, been tortured by you-know-who himself…

"What's this?" Her boyfriend said, throwing the box onto the bed.

"Oh… it's just some old letters. Really old, I just don't want to throw -"

"Oh? The picture is moving," his voice was shaking. Realisation hit Miss Petal like an iron fist. How could she have been so stupid? "What is this?"

Miss Petal took a great breath. "I'm a witch," He stared at her in disbelief. She sighed, knowing she had no choice; she pulled her wand from her pocket, and flicked it at a dressing gown, which melted to water and back again. He looked from the wand, to the dressing gown, and then finally to Miss Petal.

"YOU FREAK!" he roared, knocking over a chair as a baked out of the room. Miss Petal made to chase him, but had barley made the living room door when she heard his car roll out of the drive. She fell and slid down the wall, her face in her hands, sobbing hysterically. There was only one thing to do. She grabbed the little pot from her pocket, stood in front of the fire, and threw the powder in. She was making contact with the wizarding world.

She threw her head into the fire, and screamed "The burrow!" into the flames. Her head span and span until coming to a steady halt. She was looking into the all to familiar kitchen. As she stared around, she knew she was home at last.

"Molly?" She whispered. A plump woman in a flowery apron came hurrying into the room, a young red headed girl on her hip. She nearly dropped the girl in disbelief.

"Melodie?" her mouth was open in utter disbelief. She set the girl down on a playing mat, and then hurried over to the fire. "What's the matter, what's happened?" she sounded panicked. Miss Petal launched. She told Molly all about Harry, and Dumbledore, and her boyfriend, and the magic she could no longer keep at bay.

"And I didn't know who else to talk to Molly… I can't stop thinking about him. I still love Gideon,"


	6. Chapter 6

**Final chapter guys! Thanks for all the reviews! Keep them coming!**

* * *

In her sleep, Miss Petal revisited the scene she had tried to forget for years.

_The walls crumbled around them, and a man lay on the floor, blood spilling out of the wound in his side. Miss petal kneeled next to him, her hands were stained with his blood, but she still gripped them tightly. A loud crack announced the Death Eaters had left, but the couple on the rubble-ridden, blood-stained floor showed not even the faintest sign of joy. Tears streamed down Miss Petal's cheek, but the man on the floor remained strong, yet in obvious agony._

_ "Run," Gasped the man "Run, and don't use magic; they'll follow any trail. Even with him gone, they will hunt you down Melodie, and I want to die knowing your safe," _

_ "Gideon, you're not going to die, you're-" She sobbed._

_ "It doesn't matter Melodie. Death is nothing compared to the thought of them catching you. Please, just promise me," He was gasping in agony, and Miss Petal could see the pain etched over his eyes, which were slowly glazing over…_

_ "I promise," She whispered to the corpse, staring into the eyes that would not stare back. She held him close, tears diluting the blood on his cold face._

_ "I promise," she whispered. _

Miss Petal awoke, and walked slowly to the window. She stared out to the stars.

"I promise,"


End file.
